The Truth about Santa
by Ziah
Summary: Chuck tells his little girl the "real" story of Santa Claus.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own Gossip Girl.

**Author's Note:** I've always said that I would never post any of my Gossip Girl fic, but I figured with the show ending, this is my last chance to post this little Christmas one shot. I wrote it after season 2, and it's set in a world where Blair gets pregnant that summer, and both of Chuck's parents are dead. It should otherwise make sense on its own. Happy holidays!

* * *

Snow clung to the branches of fenced in trees, wreaths hung from rusted stoplights, and every storefront window presented a sparkling holiday scene more dazzling than the last. Normally, the wide-eyed eight year old seated next to Chuck would have her nose pressed against the icy window as she sang along to the Christmas carols ringing from the limo's audio system.

So when his daughter did nothing but fiddle with the ruby studded Santa hat on her charm bracelet (a gift from the North Pole last year) and answer his inquiries about her day with monosyllabic dismissals, he knew something terrible must have happened.

"If you tell me what's wrong, I'll buy you a present," was apparently the exact wrong thing to say, though, as this only prompted his baby girl to burst into tears.

Chuck was tempted to unbuckle her seatbelt, so she could crawl into his lap, but he was not about to abandon his safety first policy. The holidays did not fair well for Basses in limos.

He settled for hair stroking and a murmured, "Please don't cry, princess," – an all too appropriate pet name as Ebony had sneakily been named for Snow White after Chuck maintained he wanted their baby to have a name all her own, vetoing Audrey, Grace, Holly, and the more obvious fairytale name of Briar, while not recognizing the allusion to 'lips as red as blood, skin as white as snow, hair as dark as ebony.' No way would he have named his daughter after a princess with a dead mother.

Ebony nuzzled her face into his coat and sighed a very big sigh for such a little girl. "Daddy, I can't tell you because it might be true."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but I promise you'll feel better when I know." Or he would feel better at least. Was third grade too young to put Bart's suddenly very appealing surveillance techniques into practice?

She took a deep breath and then spoke quickly. "Today at lunch, Cory said that her mom told her Santa's not real, that he's just your parents, and I know that every kid doesn't believe in Santa, but if a grown up said it, then…" Ebony trailed off, and Chuck knew that the rest of the sentence was _it must be true_.

He had been waiting for this moment for a long time. "Ebby, I think you're old enough now to know the truth about Santa."

"He's not real?" she asked with a sob.

"What? Of course he's real. He's just not the selfless, benevolent spirit the media makes him out to be. I'm not exactly sure of the timeline here, but I'm under the impression that Santa _used_ to bring toys to every single child that celebrated Christmas. But what with the rapidly growing world population and the increasing demand for electronic gifts which were too difficult to produce in mass quantity at the North Pole and too expensive to purchase for every single child in the world, Santa decided to change his operations. He knew how valuable his service was to the entire world, so what do you think he did?"

He'd thrown around a lot of business terms, but he was pretty sure Ebony had been able to follow along. She was smart, and her favorite game was office. "Charge?"

"Correct. Santa decided he would only bring presents to the families that could pay for his service. By the time this happened, though, Santa was such a huge part of Christmas that poor families still wanted to keep the Santa tradition alive for their kids, so the parents would buy the presents themselves and tell their kids that they were from Santa. Over time, most of the grownups in the world stopped believing in Santa because they weren't alive when he did deliver toys to everyone, and he only bothers doing business with customers that he knows can afford him."

Chuck was thrilled to actually get to tell her this story. He and Blair had spent hours and hours coming up with airtight Santa lore. Blair had somehow believed in Santa until she was twelve from sheer willpower alone (despite denying his existence publicly starting around kindergarten), and Bart had never taught Chuck to believe in Santa Claus. As a result they both desperately wanted their kids to believe for as long as possible—Blair because she had loved the tradition so much and Chuck because he had always longed for it.

The year that Blair was pregnant with Ebony, they'd spent the whole Christmas coming up with stories to counter any doubt their kids might have and deciding the proper ages at which to feed them new bits of information. Their goal was to keep Santa alive until each child was at least nine. They just needed one more year with Ebony.

"But, Daddy, Cory's the next richest kid in my class."

"Yes, that's the real shame. Just because parents can pay, doesn't mean that they do. As you can imagine, it's much more expensive to hire Santa to deliver presents than it is to just buy them yourself. We're talking millions of dollars here. Santa knows what he's worth."

"Why would you pay him millions of dollars to bring toys that don't cost that much?"

"Because it's magic. And also, you know how Mommy loves tradition. If families like ours didn't support Santa, he might just retire altogether."

"Okay, but even if Cory's mom didn't pay for Santa, she would still know that he's real."

"She probably does know but is ashamed to admit that she was too cheap to pay him. And if you think about it, in Cory's house, Santa isn't real. He is just her parents."

"Hm. That's a good point."

"Now, Ebony, you have to promise me that you won't tell any of your friends about this. Santa probably isn't real in many of their houses, and you wouldn't want to ruin Christmas for them."

"No, I wouldn't do that. I promise."

"Thank you." He gave her a kiss on the forehead. "You're such a good girl. I'm sure Santa will bring you lots of presents this year…and he better considering what I'm paying him."

XOXO

The next evening Chuck sat in his home office going over the specifications for a new hotel in Milan. He was nearly finished when the door slammed open, and a very unhappy Ebony huffed into his office.

"You lied to me."

"Close the door, please," Chuck said calmly. He knew what was coming and didn't want his much younger twins to overhear. Ebony closed the door, and Chuck gestured to the chair across from his desk. "Have a seat." Once Ebony had climbed into the chair, he folded his hands on the desk and asked, "Now, what did I lie to you about?"

"Santa," she said, pursing her lips together and raising her chin. He always thought it was so cute when she made angry Blair faces like this one.

"I most certainly did not lie. What makes you think that?"

"Today at Mia's house, I asked her mom if she pays for Santa to come to their house, and she said that Santa goes to everyone's house free of charge. He's not real is he?"

"First of all, yes, he is real, and second of all, you promised me you weren't going to tell anyone."

"Nuh uh. I promised not to tell any of my friends. You didn't say anything about grownups."

Chuck fought the urge to smile. The omission had been completely intentional. This is exactly what he had hoped would happen.

"I suppose I should have been more specific."

"Well, it's a good thing you weren't because now I know you lied."

"Ebony, I am not the one who lied. You should be pointing the finger of blame at Mrs. Holfstatt."

"Why would she lie to me?"

"Well, for one of two reasons. Either she's one of those grownups who doesn't know that Santa is real, and so she's trying to protect you from the knowledge that he's fake. Or her family does pay for Santa's services, and she's bound by the secrecy clause in the contract."

"What's that?"

"It says that as Santa's clients, we are not allowed to discuss our business dealings with any children. Otherwise, we have to pay a huge fine. I expect when our bill arrives this year, it will be significantly larger because I told you."

"Well, why doesn't Santa want any kids to know?"

"Brand image. It's the same reason we didn't tell you earlier—well, aside from the fine. It's more fun to think of Santa as a jolly old man bringing gifts to little children out of the kindness of his heart, don't you think?"

"I don't know. It's just good business. He kind of reminds me of you." Her eyes widened a little at that, and Chuck froze, afraid that she had figured it out. But then she shrugged her shoulders and smiled at him.

"So are you satisfied now?"

Ebony tilted her head to the side, clearly thinking hard. "Almost," she said. "I want to see the contract."

"I think it might be at work," he said, standing up from his desk and walking over to the filing cabinet.

"I know that's just a cover, Daddy. It's not real, is it?"

"Will you stop saying that?" He flipped through the files until he got to the one marked 'Santa Claus' and pulled out the red and green framed document inside. "Here it is."

"Let me see!" Ebony leapt up from her chair to yank the paper out of his hands, and he could tell by the awed look on her face that she hadn't expected him to really produce the contract. She read it over carefully and then said in barely more than a whisper, "He is real."

"I told you."

"What else is in there?" Ebony asked, standing on tiptoe to peer into the Santa Claus file.

"Nothing you'd be interested in. Mostly just billing statements." He rifled through the other papers in the file, handing them to Ebony. "Oh, here's the letter he sent us the year Mommy was pregnant with you to ask if we wanted to hire him for the next Christmas. You might like to read that."

Ebony sat down on the floor, spreading all the papers around her. She was completely mesmerized by these transactions with Santa, and Chuck knew she would want to read every word on every page.

His secretaries had had so much fun drawing up the fake documents at work for him today. He'd laid out all the specifics about what they should say, requesting that they use real Bass Industries forms for the billing statements. There was a bill for every year of Ebony's life with prices adjusted for inflation and additional charges after the twins were born. He'd done his own signature on the contract and then brought it home for Blair to sign in her trademark Santa hand. He _knew_ his daughter would want to see documentation, and he was relieved she hadn't asked to see it the day before.

Finally, Ebony organized the papers into a neat stack and handed them back to him, a huge grin on her face.

"Ebony, you cannot tell _anyone_ about this especially the twins. They wouldn't be able to keep it a secret, and if I have to pay too many fines, I'm just going to cancel Santa altogether."

This was the exact right thing to say. Now that Ebony knew Santa was real, she was going to do everything in her power to keep him coming to her house. She shook her head emphatically. "I won't, Daddy. I promise."

"Thank you. Anymore questions?"

"Just one. Do you pay the Easter Bunny too?"

"It's funny you should ask." Chuck led Ebony back to the chair in front of his desk and pulled her into his lap. He was going to have so much fun with this one.

XOXO


End file.
